Pirate Chronicles
by Yamino Tenshi 202
Summary: Doujin-based request for KhonsuYue. -Those same chains wrapped around England's body. They were around his neck, torso, arms, legs... He could feel the weight of the black cannonball that was attached to them. He saw two legs behind him, black boots... "Swap places with me."-


3 September 2011 – 1:48 PM

Continued 25 November 2011

My friend Katie (EnglandFTW) asked me to write this doujinshi in fanfic form; so be it.

The reviewer KhonsuYue also asked me to type this. As you can see, I already started typing this even before your review, but your review got me determined to find it and I did! :D

Doujinshi: Pirate's Chronicles  
Artist: Omega 2-D  
Pairing: USUK  
Rating: T  
Warnings: Blood, cussing, PIRATES!, FLASHBACKS!, GHOSTS!, YAOI!, ANGST!

_The dream started off like so many. It bothered him greatly._

_It was raining._

_A teenager, about fifteen years old, with blond hair and blue eyes, was clothed in a red and blue military uniform. He held a musket in his hands._

"_I will have my independence from you England." America, only a colony, stood defiantly in against the older nation. _

_England stood, facing his bad dream. "... Is that so?"_

_It would be different this time._

"_To Hell with you!"_

_England crossed his arms, the wet cloth of his white dress shirt bunching up slightly. "You've got some nerve, considering you're half a man. Go die in a ditch somewhere!"_

_Against the rain sounds, a single drop resounded when it died against a puddle. _

"_A load's finally fallen from my shoulders..." England ranted. "... I never cared for you from the start."_

_A voice flooded the dream. __**Then...**_

_The clanking of chains, heavy with the feel of time._

_Those same chains wrapped around England's body. _

_They were around his neck, torso, arms, legs... He could feel the weight of the black cannonball that was attached to them. He saw two legs behind him, black boots..._

_**Swap places with me**_.

He gasped, sitting up in bed.

England was still clothed from the night before, a white dress shirt and black pants, black leather shoes still adorning his feet.

He felt around his neck, still panting. He could feel the large welt that surrounded his neck.

"... Bastard."

Outside, he was tending to his garden. It was a fairly normal day. Until the loud son of a bitch came over.

"A pirate ship!" America cried out, pointing at the picture in the newspaper. "It sunk ages ago, but I found it!"

England, bent down to prune some rose bushes, stared over his shoulder at the younger superpower.

America, dressed in a dress shirt, vest, black pants and shoes, lowered the paper slightly in awkwardness. "Um..." He shook his head, regaining his composure as he always did.

"Amazing, right? No one else found it, so it should still be full of treasure. I'll make a killing!

"The strange thing is only the treasure chest I found in the captain's cabin was empty. I'm sure it must have had immense treasures in it..."

"Are you quite finished?" England glared at the younger nation, his former colony. "I keep telling you I'm currently in a foul mood. You knew that, but you insisted on coming here and annoying me with your useless stories?"

America, taken aback, threw the newspaper aside. "Um... Actually, it's almost my birthday. I'm going to throw a magnificent party! And I want you there this year-"

"**I'm not coming**."

"That was way too fast!" America exclaimed, reaching down to the former empire in protest. "You could at least come for a little while and congratulate me!

England turned to the other. He recalled that day... nearly three hundred years ago...

"... Congratulate you?" Holding a small pair of garden scissors, he exclaimed, almost appalled. "You abandoned me, and you have the gall to tell me to congratulate you?

"There's no way in Hell I'd celebrate your birthday, you immature brat." America flinched. He was not as insensitive as he seemed... or wanted to be when it came to harsh comments such as those.

"You're the immature one!" He pulled the other up, letting gravity drag the small scissors to kiss the ground. He grabbed the other's chin, turning England's head, slightly to the left, England's right, with his left hand, as if to whisper into the Briton's ear. He kept one hand on the other's waist, keeping the older nation trapped. "How long are you going to cling to the past... Why can't you just accept it already!?"

England laid a hand on America's left arm as the taller nation embraced him. "Hey... Let go of me, idiot!"

"... You're always ordering me around like that." America locked eyes, blue with green, and drew his face closer to the shorter nation's, lips only centimetres apart. "Even though you don't have the strength to resist me any more."

He caught those tender lips, feeling them melt against his, like sea foam, fleeting. America gently traced his fingers over England's cheek, England keening softly - "Nh..." - before pushing away, panting lightly with the faintest of blushes over his cheeks. America had opened his dress shirt, all of the buttons undone daintily and quickly, leaving England a bit colder than before.

"Don't think that will change my mind..." His eyes burned defiance. "I'd rather die than wish you a happy birthday!"

"You're so stubborn... In that case..." America trailed off. Something... on England's chest. What was that? "..."He placed his hands on the other's shoulders, holding him out at arm's length, to England's confusion.

"?"

"What... Is it something like that..." America pushed back one of the sides of the open dress shirt. "You can't come because-" There were welts, as though England had been struggling against chains and other restraints, across his torso. One around England's neck looked as though it was about to fade away completely, so faint. "-you've got something more _pleasurable_ than my party on."

England blushed deeply. "No!"

"Sorry, I forgot that you're a pervert, England." England's face turned white and a slap filled the garden, leaving it awkwardly silent.

America's left cheek was burning red anger. England panted. The world was slightly off kilter.

"You understand... nothing..." England's eyelids lowered slightly. A vision filled his mind...

Water...

He was chained to something...

He was going to...

_Sink..._

"England...!?" The older nation had fallen, leaving America to care for the former empire.

"..." America looked at the object in his hand. It was an envelope, one with England's human name on it. It was...

"Your invitation," he said to the unconscious European. "I didn't get to give it to you after all." He looked at the other's prone form. His breathing was slightly laboured, but America had tucked him in, supported his head with pillows. _I thought your ill humour was just you being spiteful, but then you collapsed... _He pulled off his glasses, closing his eyes.

"Hah... You gave me a bit of a fright." His eyes were warm and getting warmer. _Do you hate me that much? Won't our relationship ever change... _He opened his eyes, trying to gaze at the green orbs that were beneath England's eyelids, as though he could just let his eyes speak for him.

"... I guess I won't hold out hope for this year's birthday." He rubbed his eyes with his right hand, glasses in the left. "It's not like I'm sad! Everyone else will come wish me a happy birthday!"

The lights flickered... Out.

Putting his glasses on, America looked around. "Huh... A blackout? This mansion is ancient. It's starting to show its age..."

Something moved outside of the room. Steps...?

America froze. Oh, fucking shit. A ghost?

A ghost was molesting England?!

He turned around, looking for something to light his way. On England's dresser, there was a candle-holder, five candles on their own prongs. Lighting them quickly with some matches that he had in his pocket, he ventured out of the room, closing the door behind him. He descended the large staircase.

"Wh,Wh... Who's there!? You're the one who tied England up, aren't you! You're disgusting! Did you come to molest while he sleeps!" He felt confident, even by a little. "Stop teasing me and come out... France... or is it Japan?"

He stopped. The being was walking up the stairs... and was in front of him. America's eyes widened.

The being looked like England. He had an eye patch over his right eye and a chain and ball latched around his left ankle. His wrists were held with a box, as were his hands. The box was also chained to a cannonball. His entire form was wet and puddles were left on each stair, on each as he walked past America.

America couldn't move. What the-

The candles went out.

Vaguely, he heard the door of England's room open. Turning, he saw only darkness and heard the same door close.

The candelabra hit the floor with a metallic clank.

_He went into England's room...! _

America ran, thoughts running through his mind at the speed of light. _What just happened! That was definitely England... But he was asleep the whole time! And those chains...! _The door was right there. _For now... I have to check on him!_

As he turned the doorknob, light came from the opening, making America cover his eyes.

Ships lined his vision. A cannon fired and made the water rise, similar to a tempest's rocking of the waves.

_Eh?_ America was pulled into the vision, only watching.

Watching the participants...

* * *

"It's the Spanish Armada...! We're surrounded... We've been ambushed!" All of the ship's crew – pirates – looked to their leader, his form straight and defiant. "What will we do captain!"

He smirked. "There's no need to hurry. I have an ace up my sleeve."

The two captains of the opposing ships – the Spanish Armada and French ships – came onto the starboard side of the ship, facing the pirate captain.

Spain stood, arrogance in his voice. "Give it up! Sewer rat!"

France stood beside him. "How dare you invade the seas as it pleases you! Today we will humble you, England!"

The pirates shook. "Shit... Has it come to this..."

Spain sighed. "Aah~ This feels good! I'm so glad I teamed up with you!"

The other European laughed. "Stop it, you're making me blush." His blue eyes hardened as he turned back to the British captain. "Now we're going to plunder all the treasure from your ships!"

"And we'll be taking that ship too." Spain glared at the Briton. "Throw overboard anything that's not needed..." Wait, what was England lifting up?

Italia Romano whimpered. England was holding him by the back of his gown.

The pirate smirked. "Will I toss this too?"

Spain gasped. "Romano!? What are you doing here!"

England chuckled. "What... I just bribed your soldiers and kidnapped him. Using the money I stole from you, of course." This felt so good. To go back against the other nations that thought him weak; Just look at him now, the stupid bastards. "Hehe... How does it feel when your own money is used to make a hostage out of your underling?"

The territory wriggled in his grasp. "Hurry up and save me damn it!"

The Briton glared. This was his territory. The entire ocean was his property and he would make sure that they remembered this. "...If we have an understanding, then get out of my sight right now. You're an eyesore."

Spain growled. _Pinche pirata! _Fucking pirate! "You're the lowest of the low...!" He pulled out his pistol, but was stopped by France.

"Stop; What if you hit Romano!?"

England placed his hand on his hip. "Idiots... You never had any hope of winning against me..."

Romano trembled. He was frightened. Spain was an idiot... _Dio_, he was going to get killed, wasn't he? He whimpered in fear and embarrassment as the two emotions overrode his system and urine began to flow from him, quickly soaking through his clothes and dripping onto the deck of the pirate ship.

Spain and France saw the seen and both stood aghast. "ROMANO PISSED HIMSELF!"

England glowered at the Mediterranean nation. "Tsk... You shitty brat!" As the child cried, sobbed, really, England softened. How many times had the same thing happened at home?

America would cry from wetting the bed. _"Waaaaah!"_

England would chuckle, feeling sorry for the child. "_Honestly, you're so hopeless..._" As the two cleaned the puddle of liquid waste, England would stupidly notice little patterns in the puddle. "_Usa?_"

Romano opened his eyes and ceased his tears as his feet touched the ground. His captor had lowered him down, leaving the Southern European nation to stand on the hard wood. Now he would be useful!

"You pervert pirate!" He kicked the marauder's shins, making the Brit grunt in pain and pushing him backward.

_Shit...!_

There was sudden pain in his shoulder. Accompanied by a gunshot. The bullet pierced the muscle and shattered bone, exiting out from the back of the shoulder quite swiftly.

"Hey!" France urged Spain. "Go for it; Shoot him!"

The Spaniard just worried about Romano. Was he out of the way? "This is enough to knock him out right!?"

England panted. Those mother fucking Latins... "Don't fuck with me... You're small fry..." His pistol at hand, he aimed at the Italian child. He was not America, nothing like him. His America was cute, he was kind, he was loving, he was England's!

"Romano!" Spain cried out for his colony, who stood frozen.

Romano stared at the barrel of the hand pistol, wondering... Was this how Grandpa felt when that damn German met him like this?

France threw his arm up, launching the attack.

Smoke and bullets filled the air...

Along with the smell of blood.

The pirates didn't live through the buffet of metal.

England felt the bullets cut through him, his back hitting the front of his cabin. His red coat was a darker red, black boots cut through. Blood was seeping through, incarnadine stains on his white trousers and on the wood. A chain fell on his foot as he hit the floor.

Spain and France climbed onto the privateering ship. The Spaniard gathered up his precious colony, wiping away some of his tears. He turned to the pitiful looking pirate. "... I bet you regret starting this now." But he wasn't without a bit of mercy.

"Surrender... You don't want to die in the middle of the ocean, do you?"

A loud explosion and fire filled the air. Burnt gunpowder saturated the nations' noses. France protected his face by holding up his arms, Spain covering his colony's face with his own torso and using his other arm to shield his eyes. "Wha...!?" The three mainlanders watched as the men that had accompanied them onto the ship burned with vibrant yellows, oranges, and reds, even white sometimes.

"Ha ha ha... Did you really think that would kill me!"

Spain panted in shock. _He's stockpiled gunpowder?! _"Cut it out! Do you want to sink the ship!" No, not even England would do something that crazy...

Would he?

England smiled menacingly. The blood that filled his mouth began to slip past his lower lip and decorated his chin, staining it. "This isn't the end...!" He began to laugh. No one would take anything from him! Nothing! "Even if you try to destroy my body! You'll never be rid of me!" The magic was coursing through his vein. Those idiotic Catholics!

"...As long as I have a 'vessel'!" The fire licked at his skin and it hurt. It was so hot. It hurt to even continue talking... He passed his hand over the chain that was around him.

_I can resurrect myself any number of times...!_

* * *

Alfred was torn from the vision, sweat beading on his brow and forehead. He looked around, disoriented slightly. "Eh...?"

_Was that... One of England's memories!? I was aboard the pirate ship I found... _He remembered the "ghost" on the stairs. _Then the one who passed me on the stairs before was... _

A hand suddenly came and wrapped around his throat. His back hit the wall across from England's room, causing America to grunt in discomfort. Opening his eyes, he saw the Briton in front of him, his grip unyielding.

"England!? You're awake!" The America couldn't move at all, and he saw that England's eyes were completely hazy, as though possessed. "Snap out of it! It's me!"

England lifted a chain with his free right hand. "...No. I have no business with you... Don't get in my way." With the chains that seemed to come from the vision that America had seen, England wrapped the young nation in the metal links. They were snug around his neck.

America felt the chains go around his neck. _Oh no... He's already been possessed!?_

"G..." He lifted his arms. He would have just one chance!

"Get it together, England!" America cried out, bringing his hands up and slapping the other's cheeks. His hands stung from the force he had used. He looked up and saw clear green eyes looking at him with annoyance.

"What the hell are you doing!" the Englishman shouted, clouting the other over the head. "That hurt!"

"I'm sorry!" America responded. "I was trying to do this 'neko-damashi' move that Japan taught me...!

"What about the monster!" America looked at England in concern. "Your monster just attacked me!"

"...So it's here again." The Briton sighed. America quickly explained how he had been coming up the stairs when that ghost England came up to him.

"And then I saw your past..." America concluded, shivering. "He took over your body and tried to get revenge on France and Spain!"

"Probably got beaten up like idiots as always." America frowned, furrowing his eyebrows at the older nation.

"How can you be so calm about this monster!?" He came close, laying a hand on the other's shoulder.

"It'll take control of you again..."

"Don't touch me!" England shouted in fury. When he felt America's hand pull away, he closed his eyes, lifting his arms to cross them in front of him. "I don't want you here any more... Get out!"

"Wh... After all that's happened, why would you treat me like that...!" The younger nation yelled at the other, his fear and concern overwhelming in his body.

"... Shut up."

England felt his fingers tighten their grip on his own shirt sleeves, his arms pressing closer to his body.

"I hate you..."

America blinked and looked down towards the floor. "How can you..."

He felt something cold suddenly around his wrists. He looked down and saw the same chains as before, cold filling his blood. He looked up and saw the old England again, the pirate who was truly unafraid of any consequence, as long as he got what he wanted when he wanted it.

His current England turned and stared at the ghost, immobile.

"England!?" America could only watch as the ghost pressed England towards the bed. "England possessed by England... How's this going to end!?"

The ghost came close, his lips so close to those of his current self, and pressed a deep kiss against those identical lips.

America baulked a bit as he saw the scene not ten feet away from him. "Wah! What are you doing! What the hell!"

England gasped, pulling away from the kiss. _Shit… I got carried away…_

He let his eyes fall closed and let his mind wander. _No… My strength's being sapped…_

_I'm losing consciousness…_

When he opened his eyes again, England was looking down at an old style home, one that he remembered taking part of planning. It was the house he stayed at whenever he came to visit the American colonies… little America.

"No…" he heard. "I'll be lonely, Engwand…"

He saw his younger self hold the toddler close to him, smiling kindly and sympathetically. "If I don't go now, I might not be able to come back… Be a good boy and wait for me, okay?"

America was set back down on the floor, blue eyes looking up in fear and sadness at his older brother, the Empire that he belonged to. He nodded, frowning. His baptism gowns, the ones that England remembered dressing him up in, were the same pure white that England remembered them being. The red ribbon that the tot began to untie from his neck, that was something England didn't recall seeing in later memories.

"Then here…" America said, offering the older nation his ribbon. "My favourite ribbon… It's a charm to make sure you come back safely."

The younger England smiled. "America…" He knelt down and pet the other's hair. "I can't accept such a precious treasure."

Though one eye was covered by an eye-patch, the younger Briton tried not to let his visible eyes reveal any sadness, longing, emotion that could make him want to stay. If he was unsure of his task, America wouldn't cease to try and make him stay.

"I'll take care of it for a little while!" he assured the child. "And I'll be back shortly, with no injuries."

America closed his eyes and went on his toes to feel the other's hand a bit more firmly on his head. "Okay! It's a pact, Engwand!"

England, the current United Kingdom, looked down at the scene with some scrutiny, hearing the conversation continue for a little bit.

"Bring me back a whale as a present! I want a pet whale!" America pleaded, with young England humouring him.

"Aah… I'll remember that…"

He watched the young pirate leave and America wave sadly. _Happy together with little America… I had times like that with him too._

_But… _He turned to the right, red-yellow lights clashing together and he realised it was the scene that America – the United States – had been describing earlier. His ship that he had exploded in defiance to Spain and France, it was burning in front of his eyes again. The sails were fabrics of fire, garbs that the Devil himself wore.

A flash of an opaque red caught England's eye and he saw his pirate self, an arm against his torso to balance himself. Blood was flowing freely from his wounds, the liquid hissing as some drops landed on the flames. He came close and pulled out a chest, mostly likely filled with gold and other trinkets.

England blinked as it was opened and on top of the expected gold, was a red ribbon.

"…" The young empire panted, his lungs deprived of oxygen in the dense flames. His green eyes focused on the ribbon, love swimming in his eyes. "… I'm sorry."

England watched as the ship began to sink, salt water coming onto the ship, but it was swallowing the burning ship, the entire object falling beneath the ocean level. The younger England was no longer moving, his chest not rising, not even as the flames licked at his red coat nor as the water covered his legs.

_He's not a possessing ghost. He… couldn't accomplish what he wanted and died out._

_He's just me from another era…_

England opened his eyes slightly, enough to see the ghost of his former self, as cliché as that sounded. A gloved hand clamped down roughly around his throat, almost crushing his windpipe.

_So many months and years have passed and he's finally here… To make sure I keep my pact with America. _He panted, trying to stay away. _So genuine…_

His arms, which had been pressing against the other, trying to push him away, fell to the sides, his right hand falling on a paper envelope.

_I… just destroy the relationships he's built up…_

_Maybe everyone would be happier… If I'd just vanished…_

"Don't give up, England!" England opened his eyes and saw America struggling against the chains that held him.

"Please don't give in, no matter how mad you get…" America called out, desperation, determination on his face. "Because I'll wait forever for you to open your heart up, England!

"I won't forgive you for going off somewhere without wishing me a happy birthday!"

England stared at the younger nation. His birthday…

"Ha ha…" He chuckled softly, smiling grimly. He realised now that the envelope in his hand, the one that he was crushing in his grip, was the invitation that he had refused before. "… You're a brazen whelp."

_How could I hate him?_

He remembered clearly, the blue uniform that America had worn, the musket that had been pointed at him and that he had thrown away. The determination that the younger side of him had held in possessing America, with tact and without unnecessary conflict, it had died along with the pirate years before. He could not hurt his beloved America for his own purposes, he recalled, the rain from that day still fresh in his mind.

_I'm scared of remembering that time again. Somewhere along the way, I started running away from myself…_

_But…_

_With thoughts of America in my heart._

He sat up, pushing the ghost away with a firm hand to the shoulder.

_I won't lose to anyone…!_

The ghost looked down at him with one green eye, the organ clouded over as though in a trance and in confusion at what was being pointed at him.

A star-tipped wand.

England smiled. "… Did you think I'd surrender to you?" He summoned his magic and called out his incantation.

"Hoata!"

The bedroom filled with light, emanating from the wand and spreading everywhere, aimed at the chained up individual still in the room, though he was almost free from his prison. The light wrapped around America and disappeared suddenly; deposited was a toddler America, the little colony that England had cared so much for, onto the bed.

The nation, now colony-sized again, sat up, his baptism gowns perfectly sized on him. He looked down at himself, his hands incredibly small. He stared up and saw England still the same size, now a giant compared to him.

"What the hell did you do, Engwand!" Dear God, his voice! "I was just about to beat the pirate!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," England responded, pleased with himself.

"America!" Both colony and nation turned to the young Empire, the pirate England that had launched himself at America. His face was jubilant and free of the malice that it had held towards them earlier.

"Wah!" America cried out as he was picked up and held tightly, lovingly. "What are you doing suddenly taking interest in me, gross!"

The empire nuzzled the child, his nose rubbing gently against the soft golden hair of America, inhaling the baby scent of lavender and soap. "Do you know how much I've missed holding you like this! I haven't seen you in so long but you haven't changed a bit!"

"Idiot!" England scoffed; was he always so stupid? "I used my magic to change him back to how he was in your time."

"What!?" The empire blushed a bit, soft pink dusting his cheeks. "You mean that Four Eyes from before is what America became!?"

Said nation was whining softly. "… Really gross…"

"I thought he was a bit of a hunk, but…" He cut himself off, realising what he had said. "I should have gotten a better look!"

He turned to the child in his arms. "More importantly, did you grow up into a good boy? Do you listen to what grumpy old me tells you?"

England gasped softly, wanting to tell his younger self something besides the truth, but America spoke first.

"No. I… became independent."

"You did what!? Why did you do such a horrible thing!" The empire turned to his modern self. "Die and apologise! Give me the body!"

England glared at the other, resisting the hand that pulled at him. "Ow! What are you doing!"

"Don't blame, Engwand!" America cried out, gripping the Empire's sleeve. "I learnt a lot more on my own… I wanted to know so much about the world."

He looked up with innocent blue eyes, though wise with the pains and pleasures of the world that neither incarnation of England had seen whether out of not being present or out of ignorance.

"I wanted you to be proud of the person I'd become… I didn't want Engwand to hate me?"

"R-Really." The empire looked down at his former colony in surprise, the words so mature and strong. England looked away, remembering how he had reacted centuries ago at America's declaration of independence. Well, then.

The nation turned when his empire self chuckled and turned to him. "What?"

"I see!" England grunted as he was slapped heartily on the back. "So that's why I had this feeling of depression when you possessed me! Don't worry!"

He turned and saw the young Briton sitting cross-legged, his one green eye full of happiness, pleasure.

"I love America and America loves me. That settles things, doesn't it? You raised America into a country so fine he'd think of becoming independent… Have faith in yourself." America looked up at the pirate, amazed that he really was proud of him.

England smiled.

"Whoa? I see a yummy fish here!" America giggled and began to squeal with laughter as his robe was lifted up so that his tummy was peppered with ticklish kisses from the empire England.

"Wa-hah! Stop it, Engwand!" He kept laughing, his body excited and welcoming to the loving touches.

England stared at the two, feeling nostalgic. _I used to be so good with kids…_

The young pirate pulled away from America's tummy and looked to his older form. "And what are France and Spain doing now?"

"Yeah, I shot them full of holes and completely became the British Empire." He was a small empire back in his pirate days. The fact that he became bigger than both France and Spain's empires was amazing in that time period.

"That sounds just like me! I regret nothing!" He placed America back on the bed.

_Engwand. _America pouted. England was the same as back then, no doubt about it.

The older Briton stared at his younger self, the teenager so content with America. _I can't stand any more of him… Hurry and disappear again._

"Oops…" The pirate sat up and lost his aloofness, his serious air appearing again. "There is one important thing I regret." He sat cross-legged in front of America again and pulled something out of his coat pocket, tying it around the child's neck.

America looked down and felt his heart pound a bit faster. His ribbon, the one that he'd given to England years ago.

"It's rather late, but…" The young pirate held the child, his hands firm and still, content to just be close to his former colony. "I came to return your precious treasure."

"Engwand… You're going away already?" Just like that day centuries ago…

The pirate merely smiled and patted the child on the head. "Yes. I have to go on a long journey… but you won't be lonely, will you?"

_Because from now on… _he said, as his body disappeared. _I'll be able to sail by your side forever…_

England and America sat on the bed, staring at the empty space where the young man, young England, had occupied it only moments ago.

England smiled, feeling all of his former self back inside of his heart and mind again. "… Welcome home."

"Hah… It's been a big day. I'm worn out." America smiled and played with the red ribbon that he had missed, the piece of cloth tied securely around his neck. "To think that you've always treasured me that much, England. It's a pity I don't remember my younger years very well."

The other nation sat on the far edge of his bed, staring at the sunrise. "It's your birthday tomorrow, right? Go home right now!"

"Eh?" America whined. "Why? I thought we'd made things up a bit?"

"Shut up…

"If you're having a party, I'll come…"

America smiled. "Really? Thank you, England!" He walked towards the bed, climbing onto it. "… But, will you be okay? You seemed ill…"

"Don't come near me!" England panted softly, inaudibly. "It's all because I've taken him inside me…"

He clutched at himself, his fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt. England turned to the blue-eyed teen, his mind cloudy. "When I said, 'I love you'… I was overwhelmed by feelings… I can't control it…"

America grabbed the other and pushed him onto the mattress, pillows protecting his head from hitting the mattress and the headboard. "England!"

"Hey… weren't you looking forward to this on at the party?" England looked up at the younger man with a questioning gaze.

"I want you to wish me a happy birthday right here and now… Like a birthday eve celebration!"

27 January 2013 - 1:45 PM

Finally! It's done! ::dies:: I had lost the original file until two days ago and… Gah! I'm sorry it took so long! X.X

Read/Review please ::bows::


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